Last Young Renegade
by PennyKelly
Summary: Bill's made a mistake that he needs to fix. In a flash of memories and an aching hole where his heart used to be he makes his way to London with one woman on his mind. Songfic/writing exercise based on the All Time Low song.


**AN:** This popped into my head as a one-shot listening to All Time Low's "Last Young Renegade". A quick writing exercise as I was sitting down to work on Tasting Fire. I liked it enough to share, rough as it is. Enjoy!

 **Last Young Renegade**

Bill grumbled to himself as he stared out the kitchen window and saw the gathering storm clouds over the deserted beach. It would be his luck that today, of all days, his plans would be ruined by a summer storm. He'd been hoping for a good long swim in the surf and maybe a run along the shore. His chest clenched as he passed the calendar pinned to the wall by the hallway. Two years and six months ago Fleur had thrown her engagement ring back at him and disappeared from his life forever, leaving him slumped on the kitchen floor. The same floor where only one month ago today he'd shattered his own heart and forced another witch from his life. He had not healed at all since that day, resigning himself to live out his life in miserable loneliness. Pulling his dragon hide jacket off the peg by the door, he made his way into the gathering storm.

The motorbike purred beneath him as he pushed it to its limits, whipping past the roads where she'd clutched tightly to him and yelped as he'd made the bike fly faster down the empty 4 a.m. streets. He'd felt like a reckless teenager with her behind him, forgetting the war wounds that had aged him so much more than time ever had. He ached to feel her arms around him again and spurred the machine that much faster toward he didn't know where. Brushing off the sting in his chest like so many tiny paper cuts.

Even now he felt the need of her morning, noon, and night. He'd never missed Fleur like this, and he'd once promised her forever. He couldn't bring himself to think her name, his last heartache. A renegade who in the space of so few hours had him caught up in her whirlwind. In one night he'd gone from thinking she could be a pleasant distraction from his current reimposed bachelorhood to wanting the young witch forever. But the distance between them, both physical and agewise, was a chasm he could not bring himself to cross. They'd fought loudly for hours, her not believing his lies that it was only ever a fling to him. She knew he was trying to decide for her. To force her back to London where she could live a more normal life. The life he thought she so desperately deserved after years of giving her life over to someone else. He couldn't ask that of her, no matter how it hurt him to say goodbye. Regret stung the corners of his mind every time he thought he heard her laugh in the next room or reached across the empty bed to find nothing but cold sheets.

He drove all day, stopping only to refuel. The diner near the fill-up station sparking a memory of when his world felt on fire. The taste of hot chocolate on her lips the first time he'd kissed her after they'd lost track of time and talked all night. She'd been in town for a personal holiday and had dropped by the cottage without warning. He'd not been to dinner at the Burrow in a while and she had a book to return to him. Not having anything to offer her they'd made their way to the twenty-four-hour road stop, the only place nearby that didn't carry memories of his past failures. She'd not mentioned Fleur once the entire night, updating him on his family and avoiding questions about his personal life. As they'd stood in the pool of the carpark lights after, intending to say goodbye and go their separate ways, he'd kissed her. As quickly as the memory burned into his mind it was gone like so much smoke, leaving him staring at the empty lot in the gently falling rain.

In the gathering darkness of night, he found himself on the motorway. The lights illuminating the shadows of memories the longer he drove. The feel of her skin and the sound of her laugh coming unbidden to the forefront of his mind. How he'd tickled her in the sand after a swim, her skin smooth and warm under his fingers. The way they'd fumbled awkwardly on the sofa he'd been sleeping on for months, unable to face the bed he'd once shared with his fiancee. The easier rhythm of things when she'd shown up the next day with a new bed, the old one burning on the beach. The primal way the wolfish part of his mind howled in approval when he'd taken her on the new one, wanting her to be the only witch he'd ever bed there. The blush on her cheeks when she'd canceled the rest of her hotel reservation for the week to stay with him instead.

He tried to outrun the spectre of memory in the dwindling rain, focusing on the empty space in front of him. He missed her with every part of his being in every way imaginable. He realised then that he had to see her again. Had to try and fix what he'd broken. He didn't know how long this tank of petrol would hold out, but he hoped it was long enough to get to London. He knew if he kept on this road he'd find her at the end of it. He kicked himself internally for making what could be the biggest mistake of his life.

She was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he'd pushed her away. He'd fought himself for days, trying to make himself believe sending her away had been the right choice. She was so young and had already been through so much. She didn't need a damaged man weighing her down and keeping her tucked away in his quiet little home. He could live with the memories of their week together and be a blip on her radar. It was only now that he realised he did not want her to be a notch on his bedpost or he a notch on hers. He wanted her, needed her, forever. One week felt like so little time and a lifetime all at once when they'd been together. The weeks apart felt like years now, each day stretching like months in his mind.

The sky was beginning to lighten as he rounded onto her street and parked in front of her building. He hadn't been to her flat since his mum had asked him and Charlie to help move her in, he hoped he still remembered which one it was. He apparated to the hallway outside the door, his heightened sense of smell picking up the lingering scent of her and telling him he had the right number. He knocked softly, not knowing how early it really was. The rain had stopped somewhere on his journey, but he could feel that his hair was stuck wetly to his forehead and neck.

"Are you insane? Your shaking, come inside…" she pulled him inside, divesting him of his jacket and casting a drying charm on him.  
"I drove all night. I can't believe I could be so stupid…" he reached for her, stilling his hand on her cheek.  
"Why?" she wrapped her arms around herself, not moving.  
"I didn't just break your heart when I sent you away, Hermione, I broke my own. I want you forever, not just for a week, and not just as a memory…"  
"What changed your mind? You said nine years was too much, that I'd regret wasting my time on you when I could have someone my own age. That it was all just a fling, a distraction..." Her voice was hurt as she repeated his own words back to him.  
"I said a lot of things, but I think we both know most of them are untrue." He swallowed heavily and brushed his thumb across her cheek where a tear had begun to fall.  
"Why should I believe you now?" she whispered.  
"Because I'll spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you. I was so wrong, Hermione. Give me another chance?" Her eyes raised to meet him, searching for something. Her lips parted slightly as she pushed onto her toes and closed the distance between them.  
"You're my last young renegade heartache, Hermione. My traitorous heart fell for you immediately, there will be no one after you." He whispered as they pulled apart.  
"I don't want there to be." She kissed him again and pulled him the rest of the way into the flat.

Just what would happen he didn't know. But he had to give his heart one last chance to get it right.


End file.
